


Until the End

by F_A_E_R



Category: Penguins of Madagascar
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Gijinka, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F_A_E_R/pseuds/F_A_E_R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Private is nineteen years old when he enroles for his first year at the most renowned College of the United States.<br/>Shy and clumsy, he will immediately get into trouble, forced by the school rules to join an after school club.<br/>The Spy Club, founded and led by Skipper, risks to have to close because of the lack of members.<br/>Along with his twin brothers, the brilliant Kowalski and the explosive Rico, he will find in the young and naive freshman the right lever to save his club.<br/>But the Spy Club has its roots in an obscure and dangerous past, an affair made of blackmails and revenge in which young Private will be involuntarily trapped.<br/>Who are the mysterious Johnson and Manfredi, always haunting the three twin's past?<br/>What will be the role of Hans, the exchange student from Denmark?<br/>Who is the enemy plotting in the dark waiting for revenge?<br/>But especially, will Private manage to break down the wall of fear and regrets around the heart of chief of the craziest group of spies America has ever seen?<br/>You'll find it out only if you'll stay with us until the end~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End

****

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~ _Until the End ~_ **

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday was by far his favourite day of the week.

There was nothing better, in the whole universe, than staying in bed wrapped in the sheets until late, reading or watching TV surrounded by darkness, with the sunbeams trapped outside the shutters and unable to get to his still drowsy little world.

Not that Private was a sleepyhead, but once awake he liked to remain a bit more in bed, tasting the nice warmth of the sheets before facing the umpteenth laborious day.

Lost in his thoughts he set the pillow under his neck and rolled a couple times in order to find a more comfortable position.

When, some days earlier, he had left his house heading to the College where he was supposed to spend the so-called “best years of his life” he had asked himself if he would have been able to sleep, so far from family.

Actually, Private had never left his small village before, and finding himself suddenly threw in the campus’ swarming had been a little destabilizing.

As if all the rules and timetables to learn by heart weren’t enough, he had ended up sharing the room with a definitely creepy boy.

Just like him, he was nineteen and was a freshman, but it looked like he already knew everything about the school and those who attended it.

Mort, this was his odd name, had proved himself to be a quite logorrheic roommate, but despite his insane devotion for Julien, a silly-looking guy from the fourth year, he had been more than useful to help with the gigantic web of rooms and corridors of the enormous main building.

It had been Mort to tell him how to fill the curriculum, it had been Mort to take him changing the school uniform they had assigned him –the shirt pulled a bit next to the buttons- and it had always been Mort to tell him about the Day of the Clubs, which took place every year the last Sunday before the beginning of the classes.

Every student had to join a School Club –Athletics, Orienteering, Reading, Drama- and in order to help freshmen and those who were still unsure to sign up to the right club there would have been a sort of small fair in the school gym, where each association would have had a stand as an info point; at the end of the day, the students would have had a whole week to decide which club to join.

It looked like Mort had already decided before the Day of the Clubs, sure that the association that fit him the most was the one named “Let’s Love King Julien” –seriously there was such a club?!-; as far as Private was concerned, instead, he didn’t have a clue of what to choose.

He never had great qualities or skills, and even though people seemed to love him at first sight, he was indeed quite shy and clumsy when it came to new acquaintances.

On that Sunday, he should better wake up early and get to the gym on time, so that he could have had all he time to take each club in consideration.

He exhaled a dejected sigh, overwhelmed by the oncoming efforts of the day, but he noticed in horror a tragic detail.

\- Oh dear! –

That day was the notorious Sunday of the Clubs.

\- Mort! Mort, what time is it? – he cried, turning towards the roommate’s bed.  
But with growing terror he realized that Mort’s bed was empty.

Had he forsaken him? Why didn’t he wake him up? Damn, what time was it?

Still dazed by sleep, he jolted on his feet and drew the curtains, letting in the sun which was already high in the sky: one thing was certain, it was damn far past eight o’ clock.

He washed at the speed of light and rushed out of the room while trying to put on a shoe.

Jumping up and down, he turned the corner at the end of the corridor praying not to get lost _at least that day_ , while the tie threatened of suffocating him and the shirt kept on slipping out of the trousers.

Damn Mort, his behaviour hadn’t been nice at all!

Running down the stairs two by two he finally managed to knot his tie and put it in the sleeveless sweater.

In the hurry he had forgotten to wear the dark green jacket of the school uniform, but at the beginning of September the air was still warm, so it wouldn’t have been a big problem.

It was at the last step that the catastrophe happened.

Too busy arranging the sweater in order to hide the edge of the shirt, he didn’t notice he had fully missed a step, he placed badly his foot and completely lost balance.

As he felt the ground missing beneath his feet, he closed his eyes and instinctively put his hands forward ready to cushion the impact with the marble floor.

But there was _something_ between his body and the floor.

Something warm, relatively soft and aftershave-scented.

Private widened his eyes and turned crimson: while falling he had run over another boy, that was now staring at him with a mixture of hatred and curiosity in his eyes.

His irises were of an icy shade of light-blue and his night-black hair was combed back with the help of some gel.

His features were somehow marked, still regular and granted him a mature and smart appearance.

\- Oh, dear! I’m so sorry! – he finally managed to falter, jumping up and freeing the stranger from his involuntary but strong grip.

The other one stood up and brushed the jacket of his uniform, his cheeks slightly reddened because of the bunch of people that witnessed the awkward scene, then he gave him a glance full of self-importance.

\- Freshman? Hurry up, or all the places in the best clubs will be taken! – and, without doing so much as look at him, he gave him his back and walked away, hands deep down in the pockets and a maybe too speedy gait to seem completely natural.

Private, the round and cute face bursting with shame, looked about smiling timidly while the other students, having vanished the moment of confusion, came back to their business.

\- Well done, Private, really. You started your school career making a fool of yourself in the worst way. – he muttered when he finally remained the only one in the corridor.

He sighed and run a hand through his hair, then he reached for the gym.

As soon as he crossed the huge panic door he found himself in an enormous, loud and colourful environment, where students from different years wandered back and forth with tons of brochures.

The stands were of the most various kind: some were plain and elegant, others were very artistic, full of pictures and colourful balloons; there also were simple desks decorated with banners, meaning that they belonged to newborn clubs with no funds for propaganda.

Having already forgotten what had just happened, he started wandering about the gym with a smile of wonder on his lips, enchanted by that cheerful atmosphere.

\- Private! Hey, Private! Here you are! Where did you go? – the shrill tiny voice of Mort made him suddenly turn around.

\- Mort! What on earth did you put on? – he felt the urge to ask.

The friend didn’t wear the uniform, but a hoodie excessively huge for his thin little body.

With a more accurate examination, Private noticed that the garment, of a questionable pale yellow that matched quite good the brown curls of the boy, had printed on the front side a big J surrounded by a couple of little hearts.

\- Do you like it? It’s the official hoodie of the “Let’s Love King Julien” Club! – he explained with a pleased smile.

The other one raised his eyebrow hoping that Mort would not notice the grimace of unease he was trying to hide and nodded.

\- It is… interesting… Have you already signed up? – he asked then, trying to change the subject of their chatting.

The schoolmate shook his head and took his hand expertly pulling him along through the crowd.

\- Not yet, the enrolment starts tomorrow morning at eight o’ clock. But Julien has already talked to me! Look, I’m bringing him coffee! – he chirped showing the plastic cup he held in his right hand.

Suddenly from the deep chaos of the gym emerged a gigantic stand, plastered over with pictures of a tall and lanky boy that Private immediately recognized as Julien.

And it was Julien indeed the one sprawling without any decency in a small tower of chairs resembling a sort of throne.

\- Oh, hello! Enrolment starts tomorrow! Be careful, the club is named “Let’s Love King Julien”. Remember to write also “King” and not just “Julien”! – Julien greeted him without even asking his name or introducing himself.

Mort glided towards him without noticing that the other student blatantly ignored him, interested only in the steaming hot coffee.

\- Ehr, thank you… but I… uhm…I’d like to have a look around before… - dared poor Private, suddenly blocked by Julien.

\- We have so many cool activities! Such as “admiring King Julien” and “composing odes in honour of King Julien”, and also “painting equestrian portraits of King Julien”, and… - but Private, terrified by that rampant ego, jumped back and with a forced smile waved goodbye and disappeared among the crowd.

In the meantime, on the other side of the gym, a tall and slender boy with thin silver glasses tried to hang four printer sheets stuck together on the top of the frame of the stand.

The rustled-up poster said “Spy Club” and the Os were shaped like big magnifying glasses.

\- Rico, help me instead of staying there… RICO! LET GO THE AGENDA!!! – he jumped down the stepladder and pulled a brochure away from the hands of his mate just before he could swallow it.

The other guy, just a bit shorter than the bespectacled one, let out a sorry groan and let himself fall on a chair.

\- How do you think we’ll be able to recruit someone if we won’t even have an agenda to present? – his mate scolded him.

Right then, another voice made his way to the stand.

\- Chill out, Kowalski. Nobody’s going to join the club anyway…-

Kowalski straightened his back and widened his eyes.

\- But Skipper! – he protested, shocked by that dejected sentence.

Skipper, the shortest of the Spy Club brothers got to the chair on the left and let himself slide on it with a bit more of grace than Rico.

He snorted and pointed the other stands with a move of his head.

\- Let’s be honest, the Student Council is right! This club is a failure, it sucks and the three of us are the only ones left. You know better than me that if we won’t find an extra member within this week they’ll cut our funds and force us to close down and pack up… -

After he had spoken, a deep silence fell upon them.  
It was true, Skipper was right, in those two years the Spy Club always had difficulties in resisting, crushed by other association’s popularity –especially Julien’s one- and even though the three of them were quit well-known among the students, nobody ever seemed to be really interested in joining them in after school activities.

The young man shifted his eyes from the gym to his mates in misfortune and gave a sweet smile while thinking of how, despite being twins, he and his brothers were completely different for character and appearance.

Kowalski, tall and geeky, was the tallest of the three and his thing glasses and his hair always faultlessly combed to the left enhanced the most meticulous and careful side of his disposition.

Next there was Rico, outgoing and cheerful, that one day had discovered the electric razor in the toilet drawer and decided to get a Mohican haircut without telling anyone. He was the youngest of the trio and it looked like nothing could tame his explosive temper.

And then there was him, Skipper, the middle twin. With leadership in his blood he always had big care of looking after his brothers –especially Rico- and never accepted the idea of giving in at something bigger than him.

But that time, sadly, he would have learnt to bow his head instead.

\- Skipper, don’t even dare to say such a thing! It is scientifically impossible that nobody will ever choose our club, taking in consideration the number of freshmen enrolled to the College every year! You’ll see, sooner or later someone will pick up a brochure and fill the application form! –

Kowalski’s resolute voice was followed by a clap on the back by Rico which nearly made Skipper fell from his chair.

The youngest let out a series of firm gurgles including some more understandable “C’mon” and “They’ll come”.

Skipper gave his brothers a grateful smile and placed his hands on their shoulders.

\- You’re right! It’s still too soon to chuck in the towel! – he exclaimed, now more full of excitement than ever.

Two hours later, when the crowd slowly headed to the canteen in order to put something in their stomach before going back to explore the fair, nobody had shown up at the Spy Club’s stand yet.

Kowalski was sitting between his brothers concentrated in studying a formula useful to calculate prime numbers up to infinite; on his left, the elbow pivoting on the desk and a hand holding up his head, Skipper was bored as never before in his whole life, madly focused on counting the screws on the facing stand in order to drive away negative thoughts.

Only Rico, unyielding as usual, kept on waving little flags got out of some printer sheets he previously had coloured with a box of marker nicked from the Art Club’s stand.

\- Rico! What the hell are you doing?! – yelled Kowalski some minute later, noticing that the youngest had started bombarding the passersby with tiny paper planes.

When the unlucky ones dared to look at them, the boy started waving at them crying out mid-sentences filled with “CLUB!”, “HERE!” and “GHEGH!” that scared the audience to death.

Skipper was going to intervene and assuage the brother’s enthusiasm when something unexpected occurred.

One of Rico’s paper planes got stuck in the short hair of a young boy, who collected it and studied it with curiosity.

Led by the mumblings and tiny screams of the bomber, he spotted the Spy Club’s stand and approached it.

\- Hi! This must be yours! – he smiled gently and gave him the origami back.

Rico nodded and shook his hand, scrunching up the paper plain and throwing it at his back without any care.

\- SPIES! CLUB! – he cried frenetically pointing at the rustled-up poster above their heads.

The freshman read carefully and nodded in response.

\- It looks interesting! Do you have an agenda? – he asked, while Kowalski passed him the brochure still carrying the sings of the set of teeth of the youngest brother with a look of shock on his face.

Did that kid defined their club as “interesting” _for real_?

He watched him attentively as he bit his lips, focused on the reading.

He had never seen him before, he _had_ to be a freshman, but his cute and small face framed by short dark hair and the short height made him younger to the eye than his real age.

Kowalski turned to gain Skipper’s attention, but he was already focused on the stranger, eyes widened with surprise.

He had already seen those innocent sky-blue eyes and that mild smile.

It couldn’t be.

He didn’t want to believe it.

The young boy finished his reading and gave the brochure back to Kowalski.

\- Not bad at all! And what if I was interested in signing up? Where should I hand in the application form? –

But Kowalski had lost any ability to speak, upset by the concrete eventuality of actually being able to keep the club alive.

Rico shrugged his shoulders and pointed to their leader, and only then the freshman realized there was a third boy at the stand.

His chubby cheeks flushed as he stiffened with the most ferocious embarrassment.

\- Oh dear! – he let slip, slightly shrilly.

Skipper addressed him what maybe wanted to be a reassuring smile, but ended up looking like an evil grin.

\- Hi there, freshman! Enrolment starts tomorrow, and the application form must be handed in to me! – he explained, trying to keep calm and hide his hype.

Maybe that was their lucky day, maybe they would have managed to save the club one more time: the kid Rico had picked up was the same that had run over him that morning.

And that meant he was in debt with him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_**Writer's Corner** _

* * *

 

Hi everyone, and thanks for reading this fanfiction!

First of all, let's get introduced...  
We are Ame and Koori, and this is our very first work published on AO3.  
As you might guess from the huge amount of mistakes (xD), English is not our native language. This fanfiction is originally written in Italian, so any help or correction or general feedback would be very appreciated!

As you also might have noticed, the school attended by the "penguins" and their friends is not a traditional school. It is, in fact, a sort of mix between an American College and an Italian University, with the add of some rules we totally made-up and that we are going to explain as far as the story goes on.

So... That's all for now!

Thanks for your patience, we hope you enjoyed the chapter! <3  
  
Kisses,

Ame&Koori

 

 

 


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